


Once,

by allonsy_gabriel



Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: Coping, Emotional Baggage, Gen, IPRE Crew | Starblaster Crew as Family, Introspection, Loneliness, Post-Episode: e067-069 Story and Song Parts 1-3, Potentially Pretentious Writing, Self-Reflection, Team as Family, The Director | Lucretia Angst, The Director | Lucretia is a Mess, Voicemail, Writer's Block
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-23
Updated: 2021-01-23
Packaged: 2021-03-15 16:40:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 879
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28941588
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allonsy_gabriel/pseuds/allonsy_gabriel
Summary: She got on a ship full of strangers.And the strangers became colleagues.And the colleagues became friends.And the friends became family.And the family became strangers once again.Once,
Relationships: The Director | Lucretia & IPRE Crew | Starblaster Crew, The Director | Lucretia & Lup
Comments: 4
Kudos: 13





	Once,

**Author's Note:**

> don't ask about what this is because i deadass do not know

Lucretia picked up her pen.

And put it down again.

Picked It up.

Twirled it between her fingers.

Twirled a few words around, in her mind.

Settled on one. 

_ Once _ ,

Written in dark blue ink, in looping, curling handwriting.

Without Taako’s flourishes.

Or Lup’s left-handed ink smears.

Or Magnus’ scratches and scribbles.

Or Barry’s rushed, cramped letters.

Or stains from Merle’s tea.

Or Davenport’s precise, uniform strokes.

_ Once _ ,

Her family’s words littered her pages, footnotes and addendums and “corrections” scattered throughout the margins of Lucretia’s notebooks.

They took turns writing when Lucretia was gone, knowing she hated it when a story was incomplete. They filled pages with recipes and blueprints and carving instructions and scientific equations and botanical diagrams and musical compositions.

Whatever they thought was important.

Whatever they thought she’d want to know.

Whatever they wanted to tell her.

_ Once _ ,

Lucretia would make tea on like that night, something with cinnamon and orange and clove. She’d put too much sugar in it and let it steep until it burned to swallow and the scent filled the whole room.

She’d make seven cups and place them on the counter by the stove and wait for the smell to draw the rest of her family, until they were all huddled in the kitchen, together.

And her mind would quiet.

_ Once, _

The words came so easily, so freely, with such passion and enthusiasm and gusto, that she could hardly make it back to her notebooks, full the bursting with thoughts and ideas and stories and _words_.

The first spell she ever learned was _prestidigitation_. She used it to conjure words on her skin, scrawling passages along her arms in magical silver ink.

The words were gone, now. Dried up.

Taken from her.

Given away. 

Gifted to every soul in the universe, until there were none left for her.

_ Once _ ,

A woman, barely more than a girl, asked to see the stars, and the places beyond the stars. She asked for the chance to tell a story.

She stepped foot on a ship full of strangers, not eager for adventure herself, but eager to witness the adventures of others.

Eager for the privilege to tell their stories.

She got on a ship full of strangers.

And the strangers became colleagues.

And the colleagues became friends.

And the friends became family.

And the family became strangers once again.

_ Once, _

A woman, afforded a lifetime more than was her due, learned what it meant to be, to be, to be, to live instead of simply tell, to take the stories given to her and put them to action rather than words.

She learned, too late, the impact of those actions.

She learned, too late, the _true_ power of her words.

(Gods, what a cliché.)

_ Once, _

She tore her family apart.

_ Once _ ,

She made a horrible choice.

_ Once _ ,

She made the _only_ choice.

_ Once _ ,

From the chain around Lucretia’s neck, a small, stone pendant buzzed and glowed.

“ _Lucretia_?” a voice asked, heart-achingly familiar and still so surprising. “ _Lucretia_?”

Lucretia didn’t say a word.

“ _Okay, well, when you get this, I just wanted to let you know that Ango’s birthday party is next Tuesday at Taako and Kravitz’s place, and your presence is one-hundo percent required. Absolutely mandatory. Creesh, hey Creesh? I don’t care how old and dignified you are, you are coming this toddler’s birthday, even if I have to rip a portal up to the moon and get you my fucking self._

_ “Oh, also, we’re each getting him a different copy of the newest edition of those nerdy detective books he likes so much, and you’ve been assigned the one about, like, a missing magical snowflake and ice giants and shit. It’s at, like, fantasy Barnes and Noble, so it shouldn’t be that difficult to find. Whatever else you want to give him is up to you, but T and K are already getting him a new wand and spellbook, Mags is getting him thieves’ tools, Bear and I are getting him a fantasy microscope, Cap’nport is getting him a set of maps of Faerun, and Merle is giving begonia and, and I quote, ‘a nice chat about the nature of life and all that shit,’ so that should be… entertaining, at least, if not mildly traumatizing. Probably a very bad auditory experience, at least. _

_ “Anyway, that’s it. Love you, Luce. If you—if you ever wanna stop by and talk, or even just… sit, my—Barry and I’s door is always open, y’know? Family—family’s always welcome. _

_ “And hey, we even got that tea you used to make! Y’know, that cinnamon one? It’s good, but I can’t ever get it quite right. _

_ “It’s just not the same if you don’t make it. _

_ “I love you, Lucretia. Talk to you soon.” _

The stone stopped glowing.

Lup never said goodbye.

_ Once _ ,

Lucretia stared at the page in front of her.

_ Once _ , she had been lucky. She’d been so, so lucky, and she’d taken it for granted, even after she told herself she never would.

_ Once _ , she’d been lucky, and she hadn’t appreciated it.

Not fully.

_ Once _ , a woman, barely more than a girl, had stepped onto a ship full of strangers and made herself a home.

Now, she was going to find that home again.

**Author's Note:**

> you can tell me what you think if you want but tbh i don't even know what i think so


End file.
